


teenage dirtbag

by dollylux



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - High School, Butt Plugs, Comeplay, Ephebophilia, Face-Fucking, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Teacher-Student Relationship, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-26
Updated: 2016-10-26
Packaged: 2018-08-27 04:45:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8387680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dollylux/pseuds/dollylux
Summary: Mr. Ackles has an eye on one of his students.





	

**Author's Note:**

> for melissa<3

“Mr. Padalecki?”

The way Jared pauses, half out of his seat, quick, bright eyes flashing under the greasy fall of hair, makes Jensen smile, slow and pleased where he’s sat at the front of the class. Students shuffle out between them but Jared never looks away, not even when the pause between them drags out until there’s a break in moving bodies and Jensen can see him clearly again.

“I’d like you to stay after class for a few minutes, if you have the time?” He shuffles some papers on his desk like this is some Real Official Business, and Jared pales as he settles back into his seat with a hard thump.

“Y-Yeah. I mean… yessir, Mr. Ackles.” 

Jared’s voice is deep in the fragile way of fifteen-year-olds, his hands big and spanning the top of his desk in a way that makes Jensen shiver. He can feel them on him already, can imagine the way they’d cover his ass, the way they’d grip shy at first and then hungry. 

The way teenagers lust is unparalleled, and Jensen loves to be adored.

Everyone’s gone now, leaving just the two of them. Jensen runs a hand down the front of his thin sweater, feeling the line of his tie underneath.

“Will you close the door, Mr. Padalecki?”

His eyes follow Jared’s long, skinny body as he shuffles over to the door and closes it with no small amount of reluctance, his Pearl Jam shirt big and worn in a way that tells Jensen it belonged to somebody else first, and it means the world to Jared, something he wears with pride. 

He wears the shirt nearly every day, and Jensen would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t fantasized what it smells like, that dirty, sweaty musk of a boy who showers sparingly and doesn’t think anybody is lusting after the scrappy-pup body underneath his treasured shirt, for the long cock that is inevitably tucked and waiting for Jensen in his baggy jeans.

Jensen runs his fingers over the edge of two thick-papered tickets beneath the stack of essays he has to grade tonight, a shiver of excitement making his nipples poke at his crisp, white button-down. 

“Come up here, Jared,” he says, savoring being able to say his name, the way it feels in his mouth, the carnal pink flavor of each letter like the tip of a drippy, virgin cock. He doesn’t let himself say the students’ names, especially not the beautiful ones, and most especially not Jared. 

He huffs it under his breath at night, quiet and secret, when he’s fucking himself with a smooth fuchsia vibrator angled right at his prostate, just like he could train Jared to do.

Jared hesitates near the front of the class, only two feet from Jensen’s desk, before he sinks down into the front-and-center desk, the one usually occupied by Jacinda Morrison, the class kiss-ass.

Jared looks so much better there.

“Did… did I do something wrong?” Jared ask, his voice small, uncertain, ink-stained hands rubbing fitfully at the top of his thighs.

“No,” Jensen immediately says, leaning forward in his seat for emphasis. “No, Jared, quite the opposite, really.” 

He takes a deep breath, feels the second of reconsidering like the beat before jumping off a cliff, and stands up.

He’s practically starved himself this semester, forced his body into something smaller and softer in anticipation of feeling little in Jared’s big-boy hands.

His Daddy always told him to go after what he wants and not to stop until he gets it.

He stops in front of the desk Jared is frozen in and sits on the edge of it, his squat-fattened, tight ass plushing up like a pornstar’s in his tight khakis only inches from Jared’s face.

“I have a proposition for you.”

 

 

“Are you s-sure this is alright?”

Jared sits on his bed exactly the same way he sits in his desk at school, like his whole body is apologizing for being there, like he’s ready to bolt if anyone even looks at him.

Jensen is dressed in clinging grey sleep pants and a tight black shirt, his glasses on to remind Jared that this is his _teacher_ who’s slinking towards him right now. 

“You want those Pearl Jam tickets, don’t you?”

He watches Jared look over at Jensen’s bag where the tickets are stashed and waiting, and he’s flushed already, just from being here, just from the memory of Jensen’s proposal, probably. All the points of his body are dotted with a splotch of rosy pink: his cheeks, his nose, his elbows, his knuckles. He’s already hard in his jeans, the front of them tented up and pushing at his shirt, and Jared’s so flustered that he probably doesn’t even realize it.

He turns to look up at Jensen, and there’s an alien determination there, courage, like a decision has been made.

He nods, once, and then again. 

“Yeah,” he says, licking his pink mouth and shifting on the bed. His swallow is thick and audible. “I do.”

“Good,” Jensen purrs, sliding down to his knees like he’s working a pole, making sure that Jared sees the way his eyes lower to the bulge in his grunge-boy jeans. He touches the shirt with trembling reverence, his heart racing just from being able to touch it. The buckle clinks, the zipper snags, and his dick springs out with relief when Jensen tugs them and his underwear down his thighs.

“Oh, god,” Jared breathes, hiding his face with his hands, but Jensen can see the flood of red there, the embarrassment for how turned on he is. He smiles, kitten with the cream, and settles in on his haunches for the long haul. 

“You’re so fucking big, Jared. The biggest I’ve ever seen.” It’s a lie, of course, but not as big of one as Jared may think. It’s a good eight inches and dripping so much that Jensen’s fingers are already messy, the head so fat and red that it’s nearly purple, a dark, teen-love purple.

It’s long and veiny and probably fucks like a dream, and Jensen whines just a little under his breath as his asshole spasms in want. He leans in and closes his eyes, just for a minute, not letting himself touch it just yet. He draws in a long, savoring breath, smelling him like the goddamn pervert he is, and he can’t help but reach into his clinging pants and past his balls to rub at the plug seated deep inside of him, tapping on it to push it deeper.

“Mr. Ackles,” Jared hitches, hand hovering uncertainly above Jensen’s head, not sure where to go.

“Want me to suck you?” Jensen asks, opening his eyes to look up at him through his naturally beautiful lashes, his baby peach mouth parted, panting hot breath over Jared’s runny dick. Jared nods, fast and frantic, his fingers trembling as they light so carefully on Jensen’s soft hair, cup the crown of his head.

“Tell me to do it.” He lets his bottom lip catch on his slit, feeling the wetness clinging to his mouth but not letting himself taste it, not yet. He stares right into Jared’s eyes and finally shows him his secret: that he’s a submissive, needy dickslut. “Order me to.”

Jared’s breathing hard enough for the both of them, the pink dots on his cheeks growing to stain his whole face, making his eyes even brighter, maybe tearful with arousal.

“S-Suck me,” he whispers, fingers tightening minutely in Jensen’s hair. “Suck my dick.”

Jensen sighs, breathy as a girl, and lets his eyes slip closed again. He finally lets Jared’s dick tuck into his mouth, lips closing just behind the head so he can give it a private show with his tongue, a sneak peek at what he can do. 

He licks and curls and fucks at the heartbeat-flushed cockhead like it’s his life’s work, letting splash after splash of teen-boy honey dribble on his tongue and run down his throat. He prods at Jared’s slit with the very tip of his tongue just to feel him shake all over, just to make that hand grip harder at his hair before he really gets down to business. 

He bobs straight down without pause, not giving Jared a second to register what’s happening until his dick is bottomed out in Jensen’s mouth and throat and Jensen’s got his face buried in the unkempt, dirty smell of high school pubes, his fingers working frantically at the plug in his ass, pulling and pushing so that the thickest part keeps him stretched painful and wide open. 

Jared cries out when Jensen gags on him, full-throated and unapologetic, letting his throat convulse and ruin every other person in Jared’s future who could aspire to please him. Jared’s skinny hips snap up on greedy instinct, forcing his dick in even deeper, and Jensen starts to put on a real show now, whimpering like he’s caught and helpless and choking even louder, spit already starting to seep out of the unsealed sides of his mouth. 

“God, I’m s-sorry. I’m sorry, Mr.--” Jared loosens his grip and tries to pull Jensen up off of him but Jensen redoubles his efforts, slapping his hand down on top of Jared’s on his head and making him force him down even harder, showing Jared what he wants, that _this_ is what he wants.

_Fuck my whore mouth, Jared._

Jared’s a natural, of course he is, because he only hesitates for a few seconds before he’s lacing his fingers through dark blond hair again and forcing Jensen to stay where he is, capturing him between his big, skinny-fingered hand that is on Jensen’s bucketlist and his delicious, shuddering cock. He starts to fuck Jensen’s throat in earnest, slow at first and then faster, harder, forgetting with blissful speed that Jensen is anything but a wet hole to use.

Jensen is slopping the plug in and out of his ass now, stabbing it into himself with increasing fury that it’s not Jared’s cock, that there’s not magically just two of him: one for each of Jensen’s insatiable holes. He’s gagging on him like a good slut, all for show and not out of any real need, and there’s slimy, throat-fuck foam dripping off his chin and onto Jared’s slim thighs as Jared gets more and more into it.

“M-Mr. Ackles, I’m. Mist-Mister Ackles, ohmygod.” Jared sounds like he’s being eviscerated, like Jensen is gutting him instead of taking care of his dick, and he can feel the way it grows in his throat, can feel the hard throb of his heartbeat pulsing on his tongue. He’s so fucking close.

Jensen is deeply, secretly proud of his boy: he held out for nearly five minutes in Jensen Ackles’ mouth, something very few men can say. 

Jensen pulls back off of him with a wet, slobbering gasp, his mouth a puffy, pounded wreck, a gaping hole still begging to be used. His glasses are smeared with spit and fogged up from the heat of Jared’s dick so nearby, but he still looks up at Jared from behind them, blinks his beautiful eyes and cements his place in this boy’s heart forever.

“Come on my face,” he breathes, demure and sweet as a new bride. 

Jared’s cock jerks in Jensen’s firm, jacking grip, and the way Jared is straining up towards him, shifting on the bed as his balls pulse and finally give Jensen what he wants is nearly enough to make Jensen come untouched.

The first splash hits him right on the mouth, half on his tongue and half on his bottom lip, and the second one Jensen aims higher, striping his glasses. He makes sure the third one hits his nose so he’s snorting come, letting it bubble as he breathes hard before he takes him into his mouth for the fourth and fifth gushes, drinking them down into his starved, shrunken belly. 

He gargles around it, spits all that come back onto Jared’s dick before slurping it back into his mouth and sucking it off again, swallowing throatful after luscious throatful as his face drips like a paid whore.

Jared falls back on the bed, hands covering his face as his hips pump up weakly, still trying to get into Jensen’s mouth, still wanting whatever Jensen needs to give him even though it’s got to hurt by now. He lifts his head finally and looks down at Jensen who is still cleaning his dick, licking at it as dedicated as a cat after a meal. He flicks his eyes up to meet Jared’s, giving a soft, pleased moan as he kisses from the root to the tip, giving a perfectly shy smile as he finally, finally lets go.

“Did I do good, Jared?”

There’s a pause of absolute silence, and Jensen wonders if he played this wrong, if he put his wicked little heart out on a plate for the wrong boy, but then there’s movement and Jared is off the bed and kneeling in front of him, grabbing him with both hands on his face like Jensen is a freshman and kissing him with clumsy, earnest hunger.

Jensen melts into him, letting his body go soft and loose and letting Jared eat at the inside of his mouth like a baby bird, his big hands sliding over Jensen’s face and body like they don’t know exactly what they want to do, what to touch.

There’s too much tongue, no rhythm, and too much of Jared’s perfect teeth, but Jensen just goes with it, falls into it like a girlfriend and swoons when Jared starts to suck on his bottom lip, to shamelessly taste himself on Jensen’s skin.

A phone sounds off somewhere near their knees, coming from Jared’s pocket. He sighs into Jensen’s mouth, pressing their foreheads together and tightening his arms around Jensen’s waist. 

“My brother’s here,” he mumbles. “I told him to give me half an hour. I… I didn’t know, um. I didn’t know that--” 

“Can you come back tomorrow?” Jensen asks, reaching behind him for one of Jared’s hands and pushing it down into the back of his pants and over the bare, smooth swell of his ass. He helps Jared close his fingers around the jeweled seat of the buttplug and pull it out with an audible pop. He takes it himself and tosses it away across the carpeted floor with a heavy thud, and he doesn’t have to tell Jared what to do next.

“I’ll let you inside tomorrow night,” he promises softly, pressing tiny, delicate kisses all over Jared’s hot mouth while Jared rubs inexperienced fingers around Jensen’s waxed, bleached, lubed-up asshole. “Let you fuck me as many times as you want.” 

He gasps when three fingers push inside of him, too much too soon, and it’s fucking perfect.

“You didn’t come yet,” Jared mumbles against his mouth, their noses rubbing together, Jensen’s glasses crooked on his face now. He rubs at Jensen’s insides with inelegant, exploratory drags, and the idea, the initiative, more than the actual sensation makes Jensen shake all over immediately, his own dick pressed desperately hard against Jared’s flat stomach.

“Fuck me,” Jensen breathes, spreading his thighs and digging his hips in, making his asshole as loose as he can as he focuses on coming, on those long fingers plugging his needy cunt. “God, Jared, yes. Fuck me, fuck me.”

It’s the fourth finger that does him in, stretches him so wide it shocks a cry out of him, and Jared must watch some pretty extreme porn because he pushes and pushes until the thick line of his knuckles pop in, using only the lube Jensen’s had warming inside of him since he got home. Jensen holds on tight to Jared, squeezes his eyes shut, and shakes apart on most of his long, glorious hand. 

The inside of his pants is a mess but he’s a dreamy, boneless boy in love still hanging off of Jared’s fingers, having his mouth fed from and with a creamy, warm load in his stomach. 

He knows immediately and without hesitation it’s the happiest he’s ever been. 

Jared’s phone rings again, and they both groan this time. Jared gives one final rub to Jensen’s insides before he pulls out too fast, leaving Jensen snapped open and empty. They kiss again, desperate and final, and the confidence in Jared’s expression when they finally pull back makes him look like an entirely different boy.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says with a grin he can’t seem to contain, and he gives Jensen one final kiss before he stands up and tugs his jeans up on his scrawny hips. Jensen crawls up onto the bed and tugs his ruined glasses off, writhing around tiredly and hoping Jared is watching as he gathers his backpack and snags the tickets from Jensen’s computer bag. 

“Who are you taking to the concert?” Jensen asks when Jared hesitates in the bedroom doorway, his eyes closed and unseeing.

He swears he can hear Jared’s grin.

“Goodnight, Mr. Ackles,” is all he says before he disappears, leaving the house with a final, heartbreaking click of the front door.

 

There’s a note on Jensen’s desk first thing the next morning, and he feels a flash of heat over his entire body as he sits down hard in his chair. His first period class is still filing in, not paying him any mind, so he lets himself open it. 

 _Mr. A-_

_Do you want to go to the concert with me? Check yes or no. :)_

_Love, J_


End file.
